


Kiss With A Fist

by themayqueen



Series: Kiss With A Fist [1]
Category: Hanson
Genre: Anal Sex, Incest, Jealousy, Light Bondage, M/M, Rough Sex, Scarves, Sibling Incest, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 04:25:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/377235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themayqueen/pseuds/themayqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s no fun in flirting with everyone around if Zac isn’t there to see it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss With A Fist

I know he's going to make me pay for this. 

All night, Zac's eyes are on me, watching me from across the room. I don't even have to glance his way to know that he sees my every move, follows my hand as it reaches out to caress someone's arm. Just to be sure Zac gets the message, I step in a little bit closer, close enough that I know this man's cologne will linger on my shirt long after he's gone.

Zac's the first of us to leave the club; he never enjoys it when we go out after concerts, anyway. I know the only reason he tags along is to watch me, and that only makes me misbehave more. When he's gone, I sit alone in the booth and take my time finishing my last beer. There's no fun in flirting with everyone around if Zac isn't there to see it. But I'll take my time nursing this bottle, making Zac wonder if I'm coming back to the hotel tonight or in the morning.

I never come back in the morning. 

Nearly an hour has passed when I finally set my empty bottle aside and call a cab to take me back to the hotel. I haven't had that much to drink, but it's going to my head anyway. Maybe it's just the anticipation of what waits for me in the hotel room I share with Zac. My heart races all the way up the elevator, my foot tapping a nervous rhythm against the floor. But my reflection in the steel door shows a smirk that I know I won't be able to wipe off easily.

I let myself into the room with my key card, finding it almost entirely dark. Only a tiny sliver of light comes through the bathroom door and I blink a few times to let my eyes adjust. I'm only barely aware of my surroundings when Zac's voice from the bed causes me to jump.

“So you're finally back.”

“Yeah,” I say with a shrug, even though I doubt he'll be able to see it. “I was having fun.”

“Of course you were,” he spits the words out, his words dripping with sarcasm.

I chose to ignore that, knowing it will only anger him more. Instead, I walk over to my bed and begin to take my boots off. Even in the darkness, I can tell Zac's eyes are following me, drinking in each movement and tiny bit of flesh revealed – the bit of ankle where my pants have bunched up, my forearms uncovered by my rolled up sleeves. My skin practically burns under his gaze.

With an impatient sigh, like a parent about to scold their child, he springs from his bed and comes to stand in front of me. He stares down at me, and I slowly bring my eyes up to meet his. My eyes have finally adjusted to the dim light and I can clearly see the rage in Zac's. I've definitely upset him and that realization makes me tremble.

“You're so selfish, Taylor,” he says, crossing his arms. “You just want to go out and party, drink and fuck.”

I blink. It's not a question, just a statement of fact. I don't know what he wants me to say.

Zac steps in closer, barely brushing against my knees, and grabs the scarf wrapped around my neck. He only tugs a little, but it's enough to tighten the silky material and make me gasp. “Isn't that the truth, Tay? You're just a whore.”

I nod shamefully, trying to do anything but meet his eyes. 

“Aren't you, Tay?”

“Yes.”

He wraps his hand around the scarf, pulling it tighter still, and yanks my face forward until I collide with his stomach. The angle isn't exactly right, but I know what he wants. I can see his hardness straining against the front of his jeans and it makes my mouth water. He's right, I guess. I am a whore, because all I can think about now is how good it would feel to have him in my mouth.

“If you're a whore, then act like one,” he says, shoving me down onto my knees with one hand and popping the button on his pants with the other. “Suck it, Tay. Like the whore you are.”

I moan in spite of myself as he's revealed to me inch by beautiful inch, but I know he doesn't mind the sound. He already knows I want this. Before I can close the short distance between us, he's grasping my hair and pulling me forward, shoving my face against his cock. I let my mouth fall open and he does the rest of the work for me, shoving himself into my mouth all at once. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he says, his voice deep and husky. 

I can feel him fighting the urge to tremble, trying to keep his composure. He won't let himself go to soon. He has to stay in control – of himself, the situation and me. But I'll do everything I can to make that difficult for him. I know how much he likes it when I take him all the way in, let the head of his cock bump against the back of my throat. Then I pull back and do it all over again until he can't fight it and he's thrusting into my mouth before I can catch my breath, fucking my mouth for all it's worth.

He still won't let himself moan or even make a sound, though. Somehow, his restraint just makes it even hotter. Scarier, but hotter. As much as I need my hands on his thighs to brace myself, I can't help letting one of them drift down the front of my own pants, shamelessly squeezing my erection. 

“No,” Zac suddenly says, tugging sharply on my hair to pull me off his dick. He twists my arm behind my back and I fall back against the side of the bed. “You don't get to touch yourself. This is punishment, not pleasure.”

He knows as well as I do that it's both, but I don't dare point that out now. I just nod my acknowledgment and wait for his next move. That move comes quickly, in the form of him yanking me up by my arm and tossing me into the bed. In a fair fight, I could probably take him, but this fight is anything but fair and I'm not really interested in doing the taking. So I'll let him sling me around like a rag doll.

Zac tugs at my clothes, his frustration written all over his face as he struggles to remove all the layers. I'd reach out a hand to help him, but I fear retaliation if I get in the way. He has a plan, I know, because he always does. Finally, my jeans join both of my shirts in the floor, but he leaves the scarf around my neck. 

He pulls me up by the scarf, our faces so close that I can feel his breath on me when he speaks. “Here's how this is gonna work, Tay. I'm gonna fuck you, and you're gonna like it. Fucking slut. But you don't get to touch yourself.”

I pout and bat my eyelashes, even though I know it's hopeless.

Zac shakes his head. “No. And I don't trust you to fucking obey me. So I'll have to make sure.”

As he says it, he's unwinding my scarf slowly, torturing me. He slides it down my bare chest, then grabs my hands roughly and pins them behind my back. I see where this is going now. In seconds, his practiced hands have secured mine tightly behind my back, ensuring that I'll have to follow his instructions.

“On your knees.”

I hesitate for a moment, just to see how much I can rile him up. He doesn't disappoint; in seconds, his big, rough hand is on my shoulder, flipping me over and shoving me face down into the bed. Without my arms to support myself, I'm at his mercy completely. I turn my head to the side just so that I can continue to breathe freely and suck in a few deep breaths in anticipation of what's coming next.

“Such a whore...” he mumbles, running his hand down my back, bringing it to rest on my ass. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Are you?”

I shake my head slightly. It's the truth. Maybe I should be ashamed of the way I manipulate him until he takes out his rage on me, but I'm not. No, I'm not ashamed at all. I know that's not the answer he's looking for, though.

His touch is gone from my flesh, but only for a second. His hand falls back onto my ass with a decisive smack, and I have no doubt it will leave a mark. I live for those marks, the fleeting proof of these encounters. I let out a small whine and wiggle a little in protest, but we both know it's just an act. 

“Staying out all night... sleeping with anyone and everyone...” He's just mumbling to himself now, each half-formed thought accompanied by another smack. 

My skin is burning now, and I've lost count of how many times he's brought his hand down against my ass. I wiggle it again, trying to urge him to give me more – more of anything, as long as it's his touch, his body. But he's gone, leaving me shaking from the cold seeping into the parts of me he hasn't left his hand print on.

“Zac...” I whine, my voice sounding more desperate than I really wanted to let on.

“Shut up,” he says, and I can hear the whoosh of his pants being pushed down the rest of the way. The bed shakes beneath me for a second, until Zac's reassuring weight comes back to rest behind me, his fingernails digging into my hips. “Just shut up and take it.”

I don't have to ask what he means, and he doesn't give me time to say a single word, anyway. His fingernails dig deeper into my flesh pulling me back against him. He thrusts into me all at once, not even giving me time to adjust to the feeling, to the way it burns to be stretched open so brutally. I curl my hands up into fists, my fingernails digging into my palms hard enough I fear I might break the skin, and I bite down on the sheets to keep from screaming out.

“That was too easy, Tay. You've been with someone else tonight, haven't you?”

I shake my head violently, not trusting my voice. He pulls out almost completely, only the head of his cock still inside of me, then slams back into me with an even harder thrust than his first. I try to speak, but it only comes out as a high, pathetic whine.

“Tell me the truth, Taylor.”

“No – no one else. I swear,” I reply, barely recognizing my own voice.

One of his hands remains planted on my hip, pulling me back against him in time with his own thrusts. The other one snakes it way up my back, coming to rest on my throat. “You better not be lying.”

I gasp. “I'm not. Zac, I swear.”

He yanks me up roughly, holding my body flush against his and pressing his hand into my throat. He presses his face to the back of my neck and whispers into my ear, “Whoever it was, you know I'm better. I make you feel better than anyone else, don't I?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak when I can feel the callouses on his fingers digging into the soft spot next to my collar bone. 

“Tell me,” he says, his hand pressing into my flesh just enough to make my vision swim. “Say it, Taylor. Tell me I'm the best you've had.”

My vision goes blurry again. Between the feeling of his hand against my throat, and the way he's fucking me for all he's worth, my mind doesn't know what to focus on, and everything fades away into a haze of pleasure.

But Zac snaps me back, his breath hot against my throat. “Say it, bitch.”

“You're – fuck, Zac. You're the best. Ever,” I finally manage to gasp out, each word a struggle as he continues pounding into me. 

It's exactly what he needs to hear, and he releases his grasp on my hip, finally taking my aching cock into his hand. It twitches at the very first touch of his fingers and I know I'm going to come embarrassingly soon. He strokes me at the same furious pace he's fucking my ass, his hand still pressing threatening against my throat, just to remind me that he's in control.

Just as I predicted, my cock is twitching and jumping in Zac's hand in only seconds, my orgasm coming on hard and fast. He's panting against my neck now, never one to put on too much of a show once he's proven his point, and I know that means he's close, too. It only takes a few more strokes of his hand to make me scream aloud. My eyes slam shut, colors dancing behind them.

“Fuck,” Zac says plainly, the hand against my throat trembling slightly as he shoots his load inside of me. He knows how much I love that, and I'm grateful he felt he'd punished me enough to allow me that one indulgence.

He releases me all at once, letting his hands fall and pulling his cock out so quickly that it leaves me aching for more, even though I'm already spent. Without him there to support me, I fall into a pathetic heap on the bed. From behind me, I hear him chuckle, but he bites back whatever comment he thought of making.

Zac rolls off the bed, leaving me completely alone and yearning for him. I barely manage to find the energy to push aside the sheets we've soiled before he returns from the bathroom, his face emotionless. He unties the scarf from my wrists and hands me a towel wordlessly and I'm thankful when he turns his head away from me to begin collecting his clothes from where they've fallen around the room.

I toss the towel into the floor once I'm as clean as I'm going to get, and curl up under the covers, not caring that I'm still naked. There's no part of me Zac hasn't seen or touched; whatever shame I should feel has been beaten and fucked out of me. But Zac takes the time to redress himself in boxers and a t-shirt before crawling into the bed next to me – close, but not touching.

I can't resist the urge to slide closer to him, just to feel the warmth of his body even if we still don't touch. Zac doesn't seem to notice. He eyes are shut and I realize too late that he's already fallen asleep. His brow is furrowed, as though somehow his sleep is already as restless as I know mine will be.

I run my fingers tentatively across his cheek, and he doesn't stir. Once I know he's not going to wake, I lean in close to his face and whisper, “You're the only one, Zac.”


End file.
